


Pretty... pretty

by Hope



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-02
Updated: 2005-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-02 00:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hope/pseuds/Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>http://hopeful-fiction.livejournal.com/38155.html</p></blockquote>





	Pretty... pretty

“Why, River? Why did you have to tell her?” to his credit, he doesn’t cover his face with his hands, doesn’t turn his back to her and start headbutting the wall. Which _has_ happened before. Instead he just turns an expression to her that’s quite familiar, even if she hasn’t seen it for a while. “Why do you always have to tell them?”

“Tell who? Your _pretend_ girlfriends?”

“They’re not– I don’t–”

“I was doing you a _favour_ really. She _deserves_ to know.”

“She _didn’t_. I was going to tell her–”

She scoffs. “Oh, you _sure_ you were. I can see it now. ‘Uh, Kaylee?’” She affects a cringing, simpering tone that makes his eyes narrow. “‘About that unreciprocated lust thing. … Yeah. I prefer men.’”

“You didn’t have to tell her that,” his voice is firm, steely, as if he really means it. “Didn’t have to tell her in great detail– oh god–” he finally lifts his hands, covering a rising blush. “–Exactly _how much_ and _why_ I like them.” His hands drop, then, voice taking on an edge of accusation. “Didn’t have to tell her that you read my _mind_ in order to _convince_ her of that fact.”

River can’t help but smirk a little. “Yeah, because you _told_ me.”

“And you promised not to tell _anyone_!”

“No,” River shoves herself up from where she was lounging on the couch. “I promised not to tell mother and father. Different thing!” She skips to the doorway that leads through to the cargo bay, absolutely sure that the sound she hears behind her is the sound of Simon’s teeth grinding to bloodied stumps.

“Fine,” he says. “Just… Fix it.”

It’s easy enough to override the lock function on the door to Kaylee’s bunk, and she slides down the steps lightly. The space is filled with the sound of muffled sniffling, and it takes River a moment to locate the source of it: two grubby-soled feet stick out from beneath the hem of a massive, layer-cake dress, rising up in froths of pink and white to where the bodice clings for dear life onto a hanger on the wall. River clambers onto the bed, lifts up the hem of the dress, and crawls beneath.

It’s a bit darker beneath it, but the light shining through the fabric makes the colour inside a sticky kind of pink, and the sound of sniffling is a lot louder within the skirt’s acoustics. River settles, with plenty of room, next to Kaylee, and pats her shoulder. “There there,” she says, moving the patting to Kaylee’s hair as Kaylee’s head drops to River’s own shoulder. “_I_ still think you’re pretty.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://hopeful-fiction.livejournal.com/38155.html


End file.
